Wastelander Initiation
by Fishyicon
Summary: Yes, I do have a sensitive side, I just decide not to show it most of the time. It ruins the manly persona. And let me tell you now, it's hard to keep up that kind of persona when you're orange and fuzzy.


**A/N: Okay, I've had this on my computer for a while, and I finally decided to go ahead and post it. It's not very good, or very original, in that case. I wrote it a while ago, so my writing isn't as good as now... It's just the narration of a few scenes/missions near the beginning of Jak 3. The only reason I did this was to try out writing in Daxter's perspective, to see if I could get it right for future stories/one-shots. So please, feel free to give me some pointers or comments; Daxter was SO fun to write for, but he was hard, too! I don't know if I got the essence right. But I still had a blast making up the nicknames for Kleiver and Seem. By the way, this takes place directly after Jak and Daxter come out of the arena.  
**

**Edit: Sorry, I noticed some mistakes, so I came back to fix them. I hope that people who have already read don't get too mad at me!  
**

**Also, my Canadian dictionary is different than the American/England one, so if you see some spelling mistakes (e.g. armour = armor, artefact = artifact), don't comment! Any others, though, feel free to point out!  
**

**Feel free to drop me a review. But other than that, enjoy! I should probably get back to my other story...**

**

* * *

**

"What do I get? Nothin'. As usual."

What a rip off! Jak always gets all the rewards, the fame and the prizes for everything that _we_ do! And why? Because he's an elf, and I'm the obnoxious orange ottsel on his shoulder, that's why! Where as everyone who's smart (meaning Tess) knows that I'm the one that wears the pants on this team (figuratively — stupid clothes manufacturers don't make ottsel size-clothes)! I swear, one of these days I'm really gonna show these people who their true hero is!

"Those were some sweet moves in the arena, boy! But a little more choke and you would've popped, eh?" comes a slightly entertained scruffy voice from the dark hallway out of the arena. Said voice happens to belong to who I think should be named Spargus's ugliest Wastelander (aside from Pecker). Huge and fat, with a desert-fashion outfit, and a big ugly face — complete with a filthy blond moustache that seems to have stolen all the hair from the top of his head — with scars running all the way down it, in all its ugliness. This chunk of meat needs a serious makeover. I see why the city kicked him out.

"You talking to me?" asks Jak rhetorically. That's my boy, Jak! Way to show the fat guy who's boss!

"Yeah!" I shout, helping out my best buddy. "You talking to... him?" Hum. That didn't quite go as planned. Jak looks at me oddly.

"No, I'm conversing with my sweet departed mum!" mocks the warrior, rolling his eyes. "Of course you, you bore-head!" The nerve! "You two are from the big smoke, eh?"

"Who's asking?" inquires Jak darkly, showing he's not one to mess with. What tub-of-butter here doesn't know is that I'm the one he should be afraid of! Just wait for the right moment...

"The guy who runs this place, that's who! Kleiver's the name. You two blokes stick with me, and I'll take care of you." Oh, the sarcasm in that voice. "In fact, I've got a job for you right now."

Oh, great. The one thing I've hated for years — doing odd jobs for suckers like this — has come back to haunt me even in the Wasteland. Will there be no end to this torture?

"Ride me Leaper Lizard here and catch a few of them buggers that have been raiding me storerooms. Snag me six of them puppies, and I'll let you drive one of me racing vehicles. That is, if Damas ever lets you leave the city!"

"I think we can handle that." says Jak, lighter than before. Of course; he gets to do something 'fun'. He heads over to the large lizard. Precursors, can't this hero _ever_ take a break from action?

"_NO!_" I complain, hating this mission before I've even gotten up on the grey creature. "I hate riding animals! They make me chafe!"

But Jak ignores me, as usual, and motions to his shoulder, expecting me to get on. I make a show of stubbornly dragging my little paws over, and clambering stiffly up the Dark warrior's back. I then proceed to install myself as comfortably as possible on the new shoulder plate, the orange-tinted Precursor metal a nice change from that stiff chunk of Haven City steel. It's still as hard as ever though, and I can still feel Jak's bony shoulder through the metal.

Once I'm up, Jak nudges the lizard, and it speeds forward, out of the small entrance to the arena and down the huge flight of steps. I scream in Jak's ear, briefly reminded of riding the Flut-Flut around just a few years ago. I screamed in his ears then too.

Jak somehow spots one of the little creatures way off in the corner, and steers the lizard over towards it. Must be something to do with being pumped chock-full of Dark eco. The big guy can see things more clearly and more defined, hear things any normal person shouldn't be able to, and can keep going for literally weeks without ever eating or sleeping (although that part does bother him). You know, cool stuff like that.

Or at least I think it's cool. He seems to think it separates him from everybody else, that it makes him more dangerous. He would trade it all away without a second thought just to have normality again. So, since I'm smart enough to recognize that for some reason this Dark stuff does really bother him even when they're not in freak-form, I play up the cool angle to make my buddy feel better. Yes, I do have a sensitive side, I just decide not to show it most of the time. It ruins the _manly persona_. And let me tell you now, it's hard to keep up that kind of persona when you're orange and fuzzy.

Jak controls the Leaper as if he's done it for years, and navigates the confusing Spargus landscape like a pro. In no time flat, he's chased down all six kanga-rats by running up behind them and then sending our ride into a full-blown charge attack, giving the Leaper Lizard plenty of time to gobble up its little prey. How cute.

Kleiver comes onto to Jak's communicator, telling us how well we did, saying we can use one of the vehicles in the garage later, blah blah blah, slipping in a few annoying threats, earning an eye-rolling from me and Jak both.

Jak pulls up along the beach and looks out over the water. Ignoring the hustle and bustle of the Wasteland haven behind us, the view is actually quite comforting. I know exactly what Jak's thinking without even asking. It reminds him of Sandover, three (or rather three-hundred-and-three) years ago. I sense we'll be spending a lot of time on this side of the city.

I'm about to tell him to snap out of his bizarre-nostalgic trance thingy, when something catches his eye to our right. There's a weird Dark relic thing poking out of the sand at the other end of the beach. Without a word, Jak hops off the Leaper Lizard and makes his way towards the freaky Precursor artefact, which I can see is surrounded by four weirdly-dressed people. As we approach, I decide to go make their acquaintance.

"Check out these funny dudes, huh?" I say to Jak. He stops in front of them and puts his hands on his hips. I laugh at the paint-faced Precursor monks. "Hee hee hee, nice threads! I didn't know rubber was back in. What are you working on, monk boy?" I ask the leader.

"It is none of your concern, animal." _she_ replies, waving her hands around in strange formations. Oops. So it's a girl. But you gotta admit, when they're completely covered in white paint and Precursor armour, they're kind of hard to distinguish.

"Look, colouring book," I say pissed, hoping off of Jak's shoulder. "We've had a hard week. Don't push it."

"The arena shows all, Dark one." she says, ignoring me and moving on to Jak. Monk-girl turns around, showing red and yellow designs on her face, to go along with flashy red eyes. Can you say fake? "Hate consumes your eyes"

"Great." says Jak, as annoyed by this monk as I am. He crosses his arms, unimpressed. "Thanks for the tip." Sarcasm. Nice.

"It will destroy you... just as these Precursors destroyed themselves." she continues in her wispy voice, motioning to the purple thing behind her. I walk up to it and take a good look.

I turn back to report my findings. "It doesn't look like any Precursor crap we've seen!"

"These artefacts are an abomination." she says coldly. Yeah, and so is that outfit. "One fell on the Great Volcano. We sent an expedition to the mountain, by my monks never returned. Ill tidings sing in the wind. I fear the remaking of the world is at hand."

"I think you've been out in the sun _a little too long_." I tell her, mimicking her weird finger gestures. I then point in the other direction. "Let's go, Jak."

Jak and I begin to walk away, but monk-of-the-month refuses to let me have the last word in the matter. She yaps on, but we just keeping walking. "You must leave this place! Heroes think they can save the world, when they themselves are lost. You could not possibly understand the Dark forces at work here."

That last part catches Jak's attention, and he turns back to confront her. "Don't talk to me about Dark powers. I want to know what this is!" he says darkly. But when he points towards the purple thing, a streak of Dark lightning shoots from him into the artefact, triggering something inside the machine to open up and reveal a small screen. Jak yanks his hand back and holds it in his other.

"Stay back." he orders paint-face, and steps up to the machine. He looks at it for a long time, and then presses a few spots on the screen. That makes it shoot out even more Dark eco, but this time it transforms into some kind of crystal.

"You cracked it Jak!" I cheer, knowing my boy here can do anything. He reaches out to grab the newly-formed object;

"Don't touch it — Dark eco!" warns the world's most annoying monk. But Jak ignores her and grabs it anyways, with no obvious side-effects. That's my Dark warrior!

"Yeah, you're impressed now, aren't you?" I say, mocking the monk. I applaud Jak for his efforts. "Come on, give him his props!"

"Those are solid Eco Crystals." colouring-book informs us. "It has been passed down through time that they power the greatest of Precursor technologies." She then moves her attention to the screen, that's flashing weird symbols left and right. "Strange... it speaks an ancient dialect. The earliest Precursor forms. Something about reclaiming this unfinished world..."

"Those look like coordinates!" says Jak. "Like the ones from —"

Freaky monk number one interrupts him. "It is picking up a very powerful signal..."

"I don't think we're gonna like what this thing is yapping to!" I say as the artefact starts to vibrate and shake. I back away slowly just in time. The big piece of Precursor metal glows and shakes itself hard a few times before shooting up into the air and exploding with a loud noise, followed by a cloud of purple smoke. Jak and the monks all duck down, covering their heads.

The girl-monk frowns at my buddy. "Even you cannot save us from this, hero!" she shouts harshly.

"Hey, I'm the real hero here!" I say, needing recognition for once. "You can call me Orange Lightning. Zazazing!" I shout, as I execute a cool hero pose. This is how everyone should see me!

"You may carry the colours of our creators animal, but we have plans to save ourselves. Stay out of our business! You and Orange Lightning are not welcome here." she says dismissively.

Jak and I walk away without being stopped this time. What a person! I'd love to see the look on her face when we... when we... well, when we do something cool and heroic.

Jak walks off towards the other part of the city. Through a big tunnel, down a rocky path, and up towards the garage. Of course. Dark eco boy here wants to get on some wheels and get out of the city. It's to be expected when your best friend's a racing star. Personally, I hate the way Jak drives. But does he listen? No...

The big door whines and creaks open before us. Jak steps in, to be greeted by the "big" man himself, Kleiver.

"Well, if it isn't the newbie!" he chuckles. This guy seriously needs to get some new lines.

"Keep yapping, Jelly boy!" I retort. "We'll see who —"

Kleiver grabs my around my fuzzy chest and brings me up to his over-large face, exposing me to a smell worse than Haven City's sewers. "Bite ya bum, rat face, or I'll pound you!" he threatens, and replaces me back on Jak's shoulder.

"UGH! Great stink of the Precursors! I got two words for you: tooth-brush."

"Nice rides." says Jak appreciatively, his attention not focused on our little dispute but on the heavy-duty Wastelander vehicles around the room.

"You like what you see?" asks Kleiver. "We use these babies to make runs into the deep desert to retrieve artefacts. Tough wheels for tough work."

"You said we could use one..." says Jak, obviously anticipating the moment he can get behind the wheel and drive around the desert to his heart's content. The feeling is not mutual, suffice to say.

"I did, didn't I?" thinks Kleiver, still with an edge of mockery in his voice, as if he were talking to a couple of kids. "But not one of those. Those are for the big boys." says big boy, cutting Jak off from his dream of riding a big one with giant shocks, a huge turbo canon and grenade launchers mounted on the front. Just looking at the thing makes me want to throw up.

Instead, Kleiver motions to a small, red buggy, that looks like it won't even be able to reach a quarter of the speed of any other vehicle in the room. The kiddie-car is complete with a padded safety bar, miniature wheels and a lovely little antenna. "You can use that one."

"Ha!" I shout. "What a runt!"

"Seems to fit you..." Kleiver says insultingly. I shoot him the best intimidating look I can as an ottsel. He just laughs.

But the buggy doesn't disturb Jak. "Get in, Dax. I'll drive." he says, smiling all the same. He jogs over to the car, but Kleiver speaks before he can get in.

"Care to wager a little something on a race, then?" asks Kleiver somewhat darkly. "If you win, I'll let you keep that little vehicle for as long as you live. And if I win..." he says, prompting Jak to offer something up.

"I don't have anything..." replies Jak.

But ton-o'-butter won't go for that. "I'd say that yappy rodent of yours is a little bony, but skinned and buttered, he'd make a nice treat." he says, pointing at me and licking his lips. I gulp deeply. "My vehicle against him."

"Forget it buddy!" I shout, offended. "Jak would never —"

"Done!" says Jak. Kleiver smiles and hops into another vehicle, punching the turbo and jetting out the large door to the Wasteland. I shoot Jak a half worried, half insulted look. _What did you just say?_

"What?" asks Jak. He rolls his eyes. "Don't worry. If there's one thing I can do, it's race!"

* * *

**So, if you liked it, please tell me what I did right! If you didn't please tell me what I did wrong! **

**Thanks for reading (if you actually made it this far...). See you next time!**

**~Fishyicon  
**


End file.
